


Until The End

by Sethrine



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 10:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16173683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sethrine/pseuds/Sethrine
Summary: “It's not enough! It's just…fucking not enough!”he practically roared as he pulled away harshly, his voice causing you to wince at the volume before freezing altogether.“It never is, is it?” you questioned quietly, and through all the shouting, it was those gentle, hurting words that pierced the air the strongest.How does one hold on until the end?Not even Gavin Reed seems to know.





	Until The End

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by the song _Until the End_ by Breaking Benjamin. I HIGHLY recommend listening to it for some added feels.
> 
> So! Alot of you guys have been waiting for some Gavin angst, and I finally deliver! Took me long enough, honestly.
> 
> **Note:** This takes place anywhere between several months to a full year before the events of D:BH. For those curious why i didn't have even a slight mention of Connor in there.
> 
> Enjoy, you guys!

Five days. 

Five days, and Gavin was absolutely _losing it_ under the stress of your absence. 

He sat at his assigned desk, hands clasped tightly together as his chin rested atop them, scowl smeared across his face. His left leg was jumping up and down in rapid succession, a nervous tick he had developed sometime in his early teens that he loathed to no end, yet couldn’t seem to kick the habit. You found the anxious movement endearing, for whatever reason, and would often try to find a form of distraction for him that would- 

Fuck, there he went again, popping you into the equation because he couldn’t fucking _focus_ , he was so angry. 

Five days, and you still hadn’t come home. 

Of course he was angry! He was downright seething because you didn’t even have the decency to answer his texts or calls. He was pissed because you had left without even a hint of where you had gone. None of your friends were giving him straight answers, and your coworkers only told him that you had taken some time off, but never said what you had planned for your mini “vacation.” You had completely disappeared, and he was worried that- 

He was worried. 

He was _worried._

Gavin wanted to be angry, he truly did. He could definitely play the part, perform as the asshole everyone knew him to be without hesitation. It was so much easier being angry and scornful. He'd dealt with resentment and quiet rage most of his life, living under the shadow of his barely older cousin, who might as well have hung the fucking moon in the sky along with all his other accomplishments to humanity, if his condescending family had anything to say about it. His life had been nothing but receiving shit for his misgivings, no matter how hard he tried to please everyone. 

You, though? You made him feel _more_ than the anger of a scorned man who had so much to prove. He loathed your ability to bring out whatever good it was you saw in him just as much as he never wanted you to stop. God knows why, but you had been with him for over three years, three years of his arrogant, bristling personality, navigating through his moods and defusing most issues as if you were born to do so. 

“You’re looking a little rough, Reed. What's got you twisted, man?” 

Gavin looked up and glared at the officer, Chris, who stopped by his desk, a rookie cop fresh from the academy with an eager-to-please attitude that he hated, should anyone have asked. Strange enough, Gavin didn’t mind the guy so much. He could almost call him a friend. 

“Can it, Miller,” he spat, and Chris was quick to back up with an amused chuckle, hands coming up in surrender. He could handle Gavin's abrasiveness. He reminded Gavin of you. 

“Alright, take it easy, now! No need to bite my head off. If you feel like sharing your feelings, you know where to find me.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Gavin called out as Chris walked away, earning him another chuckle and a two-fingered salute. Without further interruption, Gavin went back to his brooding, thinking back to what had happened five days prior. 

Honestly, the argument should have never happened, but it was a nasty one, perhaps one of the worst he had ever had with you. He'd been stressed over his current investigation, not to mention pissed at not having been recommended for the open Lieutenant position at one of the department's sister stations. To top it off, you hadn’t been home when he arrived, and it further fueled his frustration. 

When you had entered the front door over an hour later, he just _snapped_. The yelling started, escalating with half-baked accusations and past misunderstandings brought back into the spotlight that had previously been forgiven. You had tried reasoning with him, as you always did, but that night, Gavin hadn’t backed down. 

No, he had made things so much worse. 

\-- 

_“Gavin, please, you're being unreasonable-"_

_“Then get the fuck out!” he shouted, throwing his hand away from his body and toward the front door as you looked at him in astonished disbelief. “Go on, fuckin' leave! Leave me the hell alone, fuck off with your friends, do whatever the fuck you want, as far away as possible! Like I give a shit, anyway!”_

_He watched you take a deep breath in and let it out slowly, eyes fluttering closed for only a moment to collect yourself. You didn’t want to continue arguing over nothing, and it was obvious. The action only served to rile him up more, however._

_“You don’t even want to be here,” he spat in a seething tone._

_“Of course, I do!” you countered, voice raising slightly as you reached out to him. “You’re upset! Of course, I want to be here-"_

_“To watch me fall apart? Wanna see me self-destruct and lose my fucking mind, just so you can piece me back together like some saint? Just like everyone else, always wanting to play the hero, when I don't need-"_

_Your sudden grip on his forearm cut him off, the action surprising him first before flooding his system with a blistering rage that was ready to boil over._

_“I’m here because I love you, Gav,” you muttered, eyes fierce and pleading as you gazed at him. “I want to help because I love you, and I’m here, until the end, just like I promi-"_

_“It's not enough! It's just…fucking not enough!”_ he practically roared as he pulled away harshly, his voice causing you to wince at the volume before freezing altogether. 

_Gavin righted himself from his movements, looking up to see the hurt, conflicted emotions playing across your features. It felt like ice water had been suddenly dumped down his back upon realizing what he had just said. He should say something to fix it; your gaze was urging him to say something to fix it._

_He remained silent, and the resigned look you gave him was telling._

_“It never is, is it?” you questioned quietly, and through all the shouting, it was those gentle, hurting words that pierced the air the strongest. It was the last thing you said before gathering your coat, your keys, your purse, and heading out the door._

_You didn’t return for the rest of the night, and Gavin, angry at himself more than anything, worried._

\-- 

Ultimately, it had been his pride that kept Gavin from saying anything else on the matter, having been so worked up and not wanting to back down from the fight _he_ had created out of a need to release his pent-up frustrations. He was in the wrong, he knew that, and yet, like the asshole he was, he hadn’t done anything to rectify himself. 

Gavin hated backing down and seeming the weak one in any given situation, but he hated hurting you, even more. You didn’t deserve the way he had shouted at you, didn’t deserve his attempt at pushing you away while simultaneously attempting to rile you up in order to be mad at _something_ , other than his most recent failures in life. 

He only hoped he could fix the hole he had undoubtedly dug himself into, _if only you would pick up your fucking phone…!_

“Gavin." 

He twisted so fast in his chair, he might as well have gotten whiplash from the movement. 

You were standing a few feet away from his desk, coat draped over your clasped hands in front of you and eyes nearly downcast. Despite seeming well put together, you looked every bit the messenger with bad news. 

Seeing you brought instant relief that filled his chest for all of five seconds before the endless well of deeply-rooted anger within him made its presence known, mixing with his still-present worry over your absence. He pushed away from his desk and stood with a flourish, catching the attention of several officers who quickly decided to look away once more to avoid being dragged into something they wanted no part of. 

“Where in the _hell_ have you been?” he seethed quietly, his hands clenching stiffly at his sides. “Did you forget how to use your fucking phone? I’ve been trying to call you for _days_. Hell, I almost filed a missing person’s report! Jesus Christ, where did you even go?!” 

Gavin had the distinct urge to pull you to him, to hug you tight and cling to your body as he whispered apologies into your hair for being the absolute fuck-up that he was. Had you been in the comfort of your shared home, he would have even gone further and whispered those apologies against your lips as he kissed you senseless. 

He moved toward you on that very impulse, hand reaching out and just barely grazing your arm before you quickly took a step back, lips parting as if to say something, then pressing back together in a thin line. The motion instantly halted him, eyes narrowing in confusion as he voiced your name aloud. 

“I was staying at a friend's place,” you said, voice soft. You looked down briefly at your unused coat almost guiltily before fixing your gaze back on Gavin. It was easy to see the hurt still present, there, but it was braced by the steely look of resolution. 

“She was helping me look for a job-” 

“A job?” 

“-out of state,” you finished in a full breath, eyes wide and searching, as if gauging his reaction to your words. 

Gavin was momentarily confused. 

“Out of- but you like that dinky little office you work in. The hell are you trying to find a job out of state, for?” 

“I’m leaving, Gavin.” 

“What, Detroit? You want to leave the city?” he groused, feeling his chest tighten uncomfortably as an unsettling thought began to wiggle its way into the back of his mind. 

“The city, Michigan-" you paused briefly, seemingly hesitating on the next word for a long moment, “-you.” 

Silence filled the void between you and him for a stretch of time, though Gavin was unsure just how long he remained quiet. 

“You’re leaving me,” he said finally, words monotonously flat, more a statement than an affronted question. His voice sounded dull, hollow, just like the feeling forcing its way into his chest. 

“I can't do this, anymore, Gavin,” you nearly whispered, distress evident in your voice. “I've tried, over and over, but I just can't get to you.” 

“If this is because of that stupid fight we had-" 

“You were right,” you butted in, effectively cutting him off as he stared you down with bitter confusion. “What you said…you were right. I wanted to piece you back together, to help you heal from something you don’t even realize you’re hurting from. I can see it, how you struggle to be yourself, and I wanted to be the one who helped you do that, to help you get over it. I was trying to play the hero, but-" 

You paused, biting at your lip momentarily as if wary to continue. 

“I’ve realized that…that I can't. God, I want to, more than anything in the world, but I can't help you, Gavin.” 

“I don’t need help,” Gavin groused with a narrowed gaze, “I don’t need saving, or pity, or ,-" 

“But you do need something,” you insisted adamantly. “You need something that I just can't give you. You don’t even realize anything is actually wrong, and it makes fixing the problem so much harder.” 

“So, you’re leaving me because I’m fucking broken, to you? Is that it?” Gavin spat mockingly, unable to tamper down his anger any longer. He instantly regretted his temper when his gaze caught sight of tears spilling from the farthest corners of your eyes, leaving wet trails against your cheeks as you attempted to blink them away. 

Once again, his stubborn pride was keeping him from backing down, and it was hurting you. He was hurting you. 

God, what kind of lowlife was he? 

“Don't,” he bit out, the single word sounding demanding, even in his own ears. He wasn’t even sure what it was he was demanding of you- don’t cry, don’t make a scene- 

_‘Don’t leave me.’_

This couldn’t be happening. 

“What the hell do you want from me?” 

“It's not what I want, Gav,” you spoke through your tears, smiling as an empty chuckle left you. “Everything I want…everything I _need_ is with you. I love you, so much it _hurts_. But I can’t love you the way you deserve if you can't get passed this. You’re holding yourself back, and though I’ve tried so hard, it’s become clear that I cant help you move forward.” 

Silence settled over the both of you uncomfortably. Gavin's fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He wanted to say something, anything, to fix the situation he was in, but was unable to force the words out. All the while, he watched as you wiped at your cheeks, another unamused, embarrassed chuckle escaping your lips. 

“I, uh…I didn’t intend to cause a ruckus, especially here,” you voiced, smiling as you looked to Gavin almost fondly. He couldn’t help but notice how it didn’t reach your eyes, just like your gaze, which was flitting around the bullpen. 

“I have to go,” you continued, “or I'll be late for my plane. I didn’t want you to worry about me, anymore. I'll be fine, and so will you.” 

“Don’t,” Gavin forced out, choking back the rest of his words behind clenched teeth. It wasn’t because you were both surrounded by his colleagues, where their furtive, worried glances continue to eye you both. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to say anything. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if it was because of his false sense of pride. He couldn’t get out the words he so desperately wanted you to hear, because…because…. 

_‘Don’t go! Don’t leave me, God, (Y/n), please!’_

Your smile was more genuine, this time, though just as equally melancholy. 

“I hope you can figure out how to move forward. You deserve so much, Gavin. I just wish I could give you what you need, just like you give to me.” 

With one final, long stare at his face, you looked away and turned toward the exit. The motion instantly tore at his heart, a burning pain he hadn’t realized he could feel. It was uncomfortable and achy, bone-deep hurt that radiated outward into his fingers and dropped heavy into his stomach. 

He was moving before he could stop himself, hand reaching out and finally making contact with your arm. 

“You promised,” he blurted out as you turned to look at him once more in surprise. 

“Gavin-" 

“You promised me, damnit! Until the end, remember? Until the end, nothing would get between us. We made a promise to each other! You’re just gonna walk away from that?” 

Your gaze softened considerably as you slowly turned to face him once more. His hand dropped from the bend of your elbow, but you grabbed for it and gently held it before you, his palm facing upward. 

Gavin watched your movements closely, noting how all you could do for a long few seconds was stare at his open palm, lips pressed tightly into a thin line as another onslaught of tears began to bud along your lashes. Then, with a slow hesitance that almost seemed deliberate, you reached up and carefully placed something within his grasp, his eyes wide as he recognized the small, rounded object. 

Your promise ring. 

He had given it to you just over a year ago, a day he had made those promises of a future together, through the bullshit and the random days of sunshine. He had promised you, until the end, that he would work toward building a life together, with you. It was damn near a precursor to an engagement, one he planned on springing for your four-year anniversary. 

“It's not enough,” you whispered, and if the ring sitting in his palm hadn’t been the final nail in the coffin, his own heated statement from five nights ago coming from your lips sure was. It was the last slap to the face of their final fight, one that he had won. 

“Goodbye, Gavin.” 

But the cost wasn’t worth the win. 

Gavin looked up when you turned away once more, this time unable to make himself reach for you as you walked away. His gaze lingered on your retreating form and stared after you for a minute longer, long enough that you had already left the building, possibly even the block. 

Had he known things would end up here…had he known that he would fuck up so badly…. 

Would he have truly done anything differently? 

Forcefully, Gavin stuffed the ring, _your_ ring, into his pants pocket, the shiny band with tiny embedded baby pink and dark green gemstones feeling much heavier than when he bought it. He looked to the glass door you left through one final time with a narrowed, bitter gaze, his jaw tensing as his teeth grit together. With an angry scoff, he turned away and moved back to his desk, sitting heavily in the swivel chair and immediately logging back into his terminal, fully intent on immersing himself in his work. 

Gavin was used to being the loser in many situations, the bottom of the barrel. Everything he built up always had a tendency to fall apart completely, to crash and burn without warning. It was the same with relationships, though admittedly, you had been with him much longer than anyone else could handle. You had endured so much more shit than anyone else, and still, you had chosen to stay with him, until that day. 

You were supposed to be different. 

But you _were_ , and that was what made it so much _harder_ to handle. He was too aware of his surroundings, too aware of the sympathetic gazes shooting his way, too aware of the hushed whispers over what the others thought might have happened. 

It was over, and all Gavin could do was be angry. 

It was so much easier being angry and scornful. He had done it his whole life, after all, so why would losing you be any different? 

_‘Don’t leave, don’t leave! Fucking Christ, don’t leave me here like this, damnit! How could you?!’_

Anger was all he had left, it seemed. Until the very bitter end.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!! Let me know what you think! I may even have plans for a sequel, in the future, but who knows.
> 
> As always, see ya around!


End file.
